Harry Potter and the Anima Desiderium
by Aquamarinelightnight
Summary: Reboot of Oraculum Interim- Harry Potter is badly affected by Hermione's sudden death at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. In his anger, he unwittingly vows vengeance, in the form of a certain kind of unbreakable vow. It hurls him into his past, and he is given a second chance to stop the war- but if he cannot succeed his pennance will be worse than death Parings Undecided
1. Death

So, what do you think of my reboot? I'm happy its longer, and hopefully much better written. Anything I changed you don't like? Let me know! Criticism welcome!

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He remembered her last words. They burned, like a fire in his mind. She spoke, with labored breathing, "I love you, Harry." And then she stopped breathing. There was no dramatic exit. No last wish. Only those last words. And then Hermione simply ceased to breathe.

Panicked, Harry began to whisper her name desperately. "Hermione? Hermione? Don't die? Hermione!" He repeated it like a desperate chant, as if it would bring her back. But desperation falls flat on the deaf ears of the dead.

He bitterly remembered the last time they spoke, not argued, but had a real conversation. Inevitably, it mutated into another one of their arguments. She had stormed out, bitterly, pausing at the threshold of the door to almost whisper "To fall in love is awfully simple, but to fall out of love is simply awful."

At first he had not realized the point she was trying to drive. Though now, as she lay dead before him, he realized what she had meant. She had loved him, and their constant arguing, and their constant bickering was putting both of them through Hell.

That had been the first somewhat civil conversation they had had in weeks. Their arguments were born of the resentment of how the war had displaced them; and their love, born of desperation. All a result of war. It did not make for a truly peaceful and harmonious relationship, but in these dark days, nothing did.

He muffled a cry of rage beating at the stone, and howling out his loss to the world. And for a moment, he found one he could blame. Not one, and entire family: The Weasleys. It was all that woman, the mother's fault. She was always trying to set up Ron and Hermione, him and Ginny; always encouraging them to stir up conflict between the pair. He stood shakily and let out a cry of rage. He made to walk in the direction where the Weasel- Family was hidden, but he was so distraught, so fatigued, that he simply fell. All he could do was howl his rage to the moon.

He did not know how long it was until he looked up and saw Hermione lying on the stone, where she had died. If he didn't know better, she could have passed as sleeping. Harry slowly crawled over to her and began cradling her lifeless body. Only then did he realize how misdirected his anger was. The Weasleys were not major antagonists.

The real one was Bellastrix Lestrange, Azkaban escapee, Death Eater, and servant of the Dark Lord. Bellatrix was also the murderer of Hermione Jane Granger, the brightest witch of her generation. He let out a shudder as he realized the date. September 19th, 1997. Hermione's 18th birthday- truly an ironic day to die.

As he began to rise, he kissed her lifeless lips, touched by death's pallor. He simply whispered to her "I will kill Bellatrix for killing you. And I will kill Voldemort," He let out a deep breath before finishing with a tone of finality "and I will kill Dumbledore. I swear it."

In that moment, Harry James Potter unintentionally made a Unbreakable Vow. This vow was not ordinary, or else it would not have happened with a single wizard. This vow was called the Anima Disiderium. It was directly translated as the Soul's Desire, it formed as a result of a deep passion, or desire born of love or hate.

Harry received a flood of knowledge at the same moment he made the vow- the Anima Disiderium. If broken it bore higher consequences than the Unbreakable Vow. One would lose their right to exist, and simply ceased. In some cases, their desire to exist was so strong that instead of ceasing to exist, they were forced into a endless torture, a Sicilian task, and when they finally lost their desire to exist, it did not matter. Because they had also lost their sanity. The Bogey Man, Tantalus, Carrie, and others all suffered because of it.

He would be placed into his body, before he had come to Hogwarts. And he would have to fulfill the vow before he reached his majority- or he would cease. The sudden influx of knowledge overwhelmed Harry and as crackling green electricity began to spread along his skin, he began to feel unbearable agony. He collapsed, unconscious, due to magical and mental exertion, as well as pain. Harry had a high pain tolerance and most would have collapsed as soon as they were touched by the electricity. And those who did not died.

The electricity began to crawl over him and rip him apart, molecule by molecule, almost like unraveling a ball of yarn. To any observer it looked as though he had been swallowed by a ball of green fire. And then, the ball vanished. Nothing was left. Not a trace of Harry. He had been literally wiped out of that timeline from that point on. Magical spells would not detect him, things he had majicked would break, and things he was tied to would become invalid.

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This is just a basic idea for my writing style- Feedback appreciate- If I get 5 reviews I'll post a chapter on whats happening in the modern time too! Since, you will find both are very important. :)

~Aqua


	2. Confused Reflections

Hey! So I am currently working on my actual second chapter, however I promised a look at what was happening in their original time line. I will try and update daily- and just so you know, the original time line may prove to be very important! ;)

Oh, i'm keeping this k, because Hell, is not all that bad

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It had been two days since Harry had vanished, and Hermione had been killed. Ron was attached to Hermione, even if his affection was unreturned. Ron noticed Daily Prophet had a certain article by the infamous Rita Skeeter on Harry.

_The Boy-Who –Lived is the Boy-Who-Vanished_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_The body of witch Hermione Granger was discovered last night in the courtyard of Hogwarts. Talking to several of her close confidants, this reporter has learned that she was last seen alive with Harry Potter. _

_When I sought out the Boy-Who-Lived for an interview I found that he was the Boy-Who-Vanished. Did foul play cause Miss Grangers death? A direct result of the Boy-Who-Vanished? I interviewed close friend of both Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. _

_Ginerva Weasely merely commented "**They were arguing a lot recently. Last time, Hermione hit him. They've been dating for a while, but it's been pretty rocky. But then, there's another guy who's been pretty jealous…" **_

_What do you think folks? Granger hit Potter and in a fit of rage he killed her? Or maybe he was just angry. Or maybe it was this mystery guy! We all know what the facts are pointing too! Now you decide!_

As he gazed at the article Ron began to wonder whether Harry had a hand to play in this. He shook his head, as if to clear his doubts but a spark of jealousy had found something to latch onto. He tried to silence his thoughts by venting at the closest person.

"'WHAT THE HELL GINNY!" He bellowed this in her direction.

He got no response and gazed at the rest of the sensationalized headlines.

_Dumbledore Dead!_

_Mudbloods Camps!_

_Lestrange a Victor!_

_Snape- Headmaster of Hogwarts!_

Ron bellowed for Ginny again.

The pattering sound on the stairs signaled to him that she was on her way, and as he turned his head to face the doorway she arrived glaring coldy, arms crossed across her chest. She spoke one word, filled with derision "What." It was not a question, it was a statement of annoyance.

Ron took a deep breath, "What in the hell is this-" He stumbled for words, "This article! An interview with Rita Skeeter?"

Ginny merely batted her eyes before saying "I haven't a faintest"

Ron threw the paper at her. "You set us up as murderers!"

"How so?" She looked at her nails, uninterested in the topic.

"You openly mentioned Harry, and me! Everyone knows I'm a third wheel!" He was outraged, though no longer just at Ginny.

"So?" She looked up and stared defiantly.

"What did Harry do to make you hate him? What did I do!" He met her stare with an angry glare.

Ginny's did not falter in her gaze, and instead walked up to Ron, with swift strides. She punctuated each word with a hard poke in the chest, "The same thing Hermione did to you." She spun quickly on her heel and walked back through the door, leaving him confused.

He started to smile reading the article again, realizing it was his opportunity to shine. Quickly he caught himself, and realized that those were not thoughts he should be thinking with one of his friends dead, and the other missing.

"Hurry up Ron!" The loud voice of Bill cut through his thoughts. He hadn't noticed Bill's arrival.

"What?"

"Don't tell me you've forgotten! We're searching for Harry, and traces of who killed Hermione. Kingsley is handling the case, even though it's not his usual thing. He managed to pull a few strings and get his team on it, and us!" Ron and Bill walked outside of the Fidelus Charm and disappeared with a loud pop.

At the site, he saw Hermione's body. Someone had cast a charm to preserve it, and then left her there. He clenched his fists in anger.

"Listen, Ron, we need you to look around here and see if you can find anything linking to Harry. Okay? If you need to get away from the body, let us know." He felt Kingsley Shacklebolts firm grip on his shoulder.

Ron nodded, and began to walk closer to Hermione. His legs were stiff and his shoulders were shaking. He reached out to touch her, even as Kingley stepped forward to admonish him.

She felt like she had when the Basilisk had petrified her. He looked at her clothing, and noticed some of it had been slashed open. Her skin was almost flawless, but there was a faint scar, as if recently and magically healed.

"Kingsley. We need Snape. This curse, used here, the ripping scars are familiar."

"Can't anyone identify it?" Kinglsey was puzzled, especially since as far as he was concerned, Snape was an enemy.

Ron looked at him and understood what Kingsley was thinking. "You can call Snape here without any danger. This is a Ministry of Magic Investigation. And because I think he invented this curse."

Kingley let out a breath, and barked an order to an underling scurrying about. She turned on her heel and dissapperated with a pop.

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Still not as long as I would have liked it, but the bits I would have added would be better suited for a different chapter I have planned. I assure you that my chapters will soon be quite a bit longer. Read and Review please- Any comments, critiscisms are appreciated. Also, anyone notice where I'm going with this :D

In additon, some of it may not be as canon, involving Kingsly and Aurors, because I need to brush on my knowledge there. I will try and keep it canon, so if you see in painful mistakes, let me know!


	3. Heal

So, next chapter, back to Harry. I would love some feedback because I'm worried that the conversation between Zhu and Harry was to flat. Any suggestions are very welcome.

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Harry's eyes shot open and he sat up suddenly. It was reminiscent of the days when one suddenly awoke, greeted by neither sun, nor people. He was in a simple state of awake. He did not feel tired, nor rested, nor as if he'd been asleep. He was awake and aware.

As Harry rose he began aware of his knew knowledge, and what events had recently transpired. He also realized with a start that he was only wearing his underclothes. He felt no emotion to anything though. He only felt a calm sense of resolve and a twinge of anger. The place he was in smothered his emotion, his fire.

Harry slowly pivoted to take in the place he was in. He was underneath the Whomping Willow. Except, it wasn't. The tree did not move except to sway in the wind. There was a man with his back to Harry, ladling soup from a pot into two bowls. Harry stared at him.

He was hunched over the fire but if he stood, he would have been much taller than Harry. At least that's what he thought. The man's clothing was the only thing that stayed consistent. A small cloak, much like the Roman Centurions would wear stained bright red lay across his back, completely covering one shoulder. He had a hood, though it was not up, and metal plates covered him. It was armor, and looked much like what medieval archers would wear, except his was steel. Underneath it, the hood continued into a silver robe. Harry looked closer and realized that not even the clothing was consistent.

It stayed in the same basic style but it constantly changed colors and morphed into different materials. The man himself seemed to shrink and grow, shoulders growing broader and becoming more muscled before once again becoming as scrawny as a child. Harry was transfixed. The hair changed colors too, and Harry thought of Tonks. Was this person metemorphagus? That made no sense though. Tonks could not change her outfit.

"Hello Harry Potter. Son of James Potter and Lily Potter, descendent of Ignotus Peverell." The man had turned around with a sweeping motion, holding two bowls now full of soup. He bowed swiftly and set the bowls on a table Harry only just noticed. He gestured for Harry to come closer.

Hesitantly, Harry stepped forward. He met the man's eyes and realized that even their color changed too. Every color he could imagine flashed by. The man's face changed to match the eyes. For a moment he thought he saw Fred, but it was gone too quickly. He let out a breath but did not let that unnerve him. More faces flashed by. Sirius, Lupin, Cedric, and all the other casualties of the war. And then he saw his own face staring back at him.

He gasped audibly and stumbled back as the man held that form. "That's me! Bloody hell that's me! Why do those faces appear? Why did mine! I'm not dead!"

The man stalked forward to where Harry had fallen, and grabbed his face. Holding him under the chin he forced him to make eye contact. "Examine these eyes. These eyes are not your mother's."

"Dad? Are you my Dad?" Harry asked hesitantly, stumbling with words. He no longer felt the same cold assurance he had when he had woken.

"In a way." The man answered with a baritone voice that had a musical edge.

Harry simply looked at him, waiting for more explanation.

"I hold your father's appearance, but I am not him."

"Then who are you?" Harry sat up and stood slowly.

"That is not of importance. I have been given precisely 24 hours to prepare you. Then Meng-Po will get you." The man spoke without emotion. He did not display much through body language either.

"What are you then? Or is that not important either! And what are you preparing me for? And who is Meng-Po!" He struggled with Meng-Po's name, but he let himself escalate to loud shouts out of anger. He was frustrated and sad.

The man stared as Harry stepped forward and started to scream. Then Harry tried to hit him. The man grabbed his arm and put him in headlock. Then he broke it.

Harry screamed in pain and swiftly retreated, though he really couldn't go anywhere. Cradling his arm, he glared. The man approached once more, and before Harry could blink he grabbed the broken arm and quickly dunked it into the pot of boiling soup.

Harry panicked. At first he screamed because the grabbing of the arm hurt, then he screamed instinctively when he hit the soup. Slowly he became aware of a cool sensation. The soup was not hurting him. After a few minutes the man removed his arm.

"Good as new. Next time you will know not to attack me. Because I will break more bones, and I might decide they don't need healing." The man spoke with a threatening tone. He resumed his normal tone and said "I am not a mortal. I have no name, though I suppose I will take one so not to confuse you. Call me Zhu."

"Zhu, what are you preparing me for? And what about Meng-Po?" Harry spoke much more calmly.

"I am preparing you to return. And Meng-Po is my Master. She is what mortals would call a God." Zhu adopted a tone of reverence.

Harry started to ask a question but was cut off by Zhu.

"We have already wasted 5 hours. You slept for 3 and it took 2 to calm you down. Listen to me and I will explain everything you need to know." Zhu paused and waited for Harry to acknowledge him. "I must explain that I was once mortal too. I lost my name many eons ago, but when I lived I was a Skald, or Norse Bard, granted sainthood which is why I serve the gods. You are here because you made an Unbreakable Vow. You should know this already though."

Harry nodded.

"I am here because I made one of those too. Mine was also special, but not the same as yours. I failed and I serve here as my penance. I have lived eons alone. This is a horrific punishment for me. I am a Skald, and innately I talk and must talk. For you, or others this would not be that bad. I am to guide you in your task, understand though; I will be unable to directly interfere."

Harry laughed suddenly. "I guess this is what touched by a God means. Those people, witches and wizards I bet."

"You've caught on. Many people were sent back to redo history, and I or others often helped. Joan of Arc among others. Of course, there are certain religious figures who were led astray by my friends on a bad day." Zhu chuckled.

"Joan succeeded."

Zhu nodded.

"Why did these people claim it was a god, since it ended with their deaths? Why not keep quiet?"

"You will learn for yourself." He sighed before continuing "You are being given a second chance at life. You will be sent back into your childhood, at the most pivotal point. And no, not when you got your scar. Perhaps you can change events, for the better." Zhu paused to let it sink in.

"Won't that create a paradox?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I was going to avoid telling you this, but you will not have your memories, except for fragments of a dream and half remembered pasts. It will be a feeling of Déjà vu. You will remember when the time is right, but magical walls, stronger than any mortal will block you. Your magical core will also be limited. Like I said, I'll guide you." Zhu waited for a respone.

"Why are you limiting my magic and hiding my memories?" Harry wasn't angry or even annoyed. Just curious.

"Because the most pivotal point in your life is at a young age. The presence of a fully matured magical core could drive you insane. The memories could also kill you. You will develop magically and mentally at an increased rate because we are just siphoning it to you."

"Other affects?"

"Your capacity for magic, and overall power are increased. You will have a greater affinity for magic and other things." The man listed it off once more bored. "You may be mistaken for a seer because of this. Also, you will keep any magical talents you have because they will become embedded into your soul."

"What about… other things?" Harry asked, thinking of the Horcruxe.

"Perhaps. The time has passed quickly and Meng-Po will soon be here. I will tell you one last thing. The body you have here is a manifestation of your actual soul. It is not like a Patronus, instead it displays things." Zhu suddenly slid off his breastplate and some of his clothing.

Harry gasped. He was covered in vibrant moving tattoos. A longship moving forward. Men struggling on a beach. "What is it?" Harry stuttered a little.

"This is my life story- or its pivotal moments." Zhu frowned sadly as he gestured at himself. It's not just my torso. The rest of my body too. But this displays my life story because I am dead. With you, if there is anything you need to remember, write it on your soul. Tattoo if need be. It will be preserved. Look at yourself now Harry. "

Zhu melted back into a wall that Harry had not noticed and slowly it became reflective like a mirror. Harry stood gazing at himself. A large snake moved across his body, curling around his torso and running its way up his arms. It did not stop moving. A stag trotted near it and an otter was close by.

These were important events and skills. So perhaps he would appear at the lake where he cast his Patronus or with Hermione in the room of requirement, or even when he first spoke Parseltongue. Those were the most prominent, but hundreds more decorated his body like battle scars. Which they were in a way.

The mirror shattered suddenly and Harry stumbled back as it slowly seemed to melt away. A woman stepped through, and Harry knew, without a shadow of doubt that this was Meng-Po.

She gazed at him. "Sit down, over there." Harry did as she directed and sat where the soup was. "My man, Zhu I heard is what he calls himself now, has explained things to you."

Harry simply nodded. It was a statement and did not allow for argument.

"Good. Eat now." She gestured at the broth Zhu had healed him with, and grabbed a bowl for herself.

"Wait. One question. What is this? Zhu healed my arm with it." Harry eyed her suspiciously noticing she did not drink any.

"This? It is a broth of healing. It causes the body to forget what injuries were done to it."

Harry was not any more comforted, but he took a sip.

The broth tasted heavenly. It was like bursts of color and flavor. A fireworks show, and Harry had more. He ate and ate, and he did not notice Meng-Po still gazing at him with a small smirk. Her bowl was still full.

Meng-Po leaned forward until she was next to his ear and whispered to him. _"Sleep and heal. Forget so you may heal."_ She sat back and watched as his body began to fade away to nothing.

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So there's that. I would love some reviews, and any feedback on how this is going. I'm throwing in some Asian and Norse Mythology- What do you think?

Also, I'm updating earlier than I planned... Soo, if we want something tommorow 10 reviews is a good incentive(:


	4. Deja Vu

So, I forgot to add that Meng-Po's broth is called the Broth of Forgetting- Usually is taken so a soul does not remember its past life in its new incarnation.

Also, this is shorter than i wanted because I need a good cut off point, before I branch into the next chapter which I hope to map out well.

Saturday and Sunday are my day of rest, so don't always expect an update on those days. Also, because of my job, rethink updating to once or twice a week.

* * *

The hallucinations started when he got the letter, but even before that Harry had begun to lose touch with his current reality. He sat in his cupboard shivering as he wrapped his threadbare blanket around him. It was full of holes and did little to keep Harry warm.

Truthfully, Harry did not shiver from a chill, but from fear.

He had gone to the Zoo with the Dursley's and one of Dudley's friends. It was a treat for Harry, and he suspected that if they hadn't park so painfully close to a patrol car, he would have been left to bake. Dudley and his friend wandered around tapping on exhibits, hoping to elicit a reaction. They quickly grew bored.

Harry was left to his own devices, a rare occurrence, and found himself gravitating towards the reptile house. As he walked through the swinging glass doors into the noticeably humid environment he felt a curious sense of déjà vu. It was ridiculous of him to think this place was familiar. He had never set foot here, or in any Zoo with or without the Dursleys. Still, the place drew Harry in and he stumbled to a snake exhibit. More specifically a Boa Constrictor from Brazil.

"_It's a boy." _

"_He has a gift." _

"_He does not know it." _

"_He can understand us." _

"_Look at his face. So confused."_

"_Salazar's descendents died out." _

"_Apparently not."_

Harry heard faint whispers. Perhaps a novice would not have noticed at all, but he was no novice. Instead, these whispers started a burning within him, and he needed answers. The voices were both feminine and masculine, but the Reptile House was void of people. The voices had no source, but he thought he heard chuckling, as if they were teasing him. He began to turn wildly, until his eyes glanced over the Boa Constrictor from Brazil once more.

As if sensing his gaze it opened an eye and glared balefully at him and its tongue darted out to taste the air. Harry thought he heard the whispers again. This time it said hello.

"Dad! Look! Snakes!" The sudden entrance of Dudley interrupted Harry's reverie and he turned to see Dudley barreling into him. Dudley knocked Harry aside easily and slammed up against the glass. "Look at this one! It's huge! Do something!" He began tapping the glass excitedly.

The snake did nothing except open its eye once more and tastes the air. Harry could have sworn he heard it whisper _"Moron."_

After a few minutes Dudley grew bored and moved on to torture the next lot of creatures. Harry then approached the cage, treading softly in comparison to the lumbering boom of Dudley's step.

The snake began to rise up from its coil, until its head was bobbing up and down in time to Harry's breathing. _"Hello."_ It was not a friendly hello, but it was not cold either. It simply radiated curiosity. _"Who are you? We did not know Silvertongues still existed. We thought the Bloodline had been eradicated."_

Harry blinked. Twice. There was no doubt about it, that snake had talked to him. Harry opened his mouth hesitantly and gulped twice before stuttering out his name.

"_Harry Potter? How interesting. Now, tell us why you are with them._"The snake hissed in the direction of the Dursleys.

Harry blinked again before saying, with more confidence, "I'm an orphan. And what's a silvertongue?"

"_How odd a wizard of your lineage ended up with muggles, even if he is an orphan. And you are a Silvertongue."_ The snake reared its head back triumphantly before ducking down as Dudley let out an excited scream.

"It's moving! It's moving! The thing is moving!" Dudley slammed against the wall again.

Harry began to get angry. Harry clenched his fists as he began to grow angrier at Dudley for being a moron, for mistreating the snakes, for making seventeen years a living hell. The glass around them began to crack. At first it was miniscule, tiny webs running across the glass. Dudley hit the window again and Harry let out a particularly violent growl as the rest of the windows shattered.

Harry's eyes opened wide in shock as the Reptile House suddenly emptied. All that was left was shattered glass and the screaming Dursleys. Even their screaming was annoying Harry. He began to grow angrier running over how he had endured them for seventeen years- Harry gave a start suddenly releasing his grip on his magic as he realized that he had not been with them for seventeen years. Not even close. He was only ten.

Petunia screamed again, but this time because the glass was suddenly right back here it should be, pristine and unbroken. The only thing missing from the Reptile House were its inhabitants.

In the car ride home Harry remained deathly silent while Dudley and his friend blabbered on about how they easily could have strangled the snakes with their bare hands. When they reached Dudley's friend's house he exited the car but not without a few words. "Weird, huh, how Harry was talking to the snake before they all escaped." He left the car unaware of the trouble he was causing Harry.

When they got home Vernon spoke three words. "Cuboard. No Dinner."

So Harry had found himself shivering in a threadbare blanket, in a cupboard, locked away from the world. He did not sleep that night and instead contemplated the idea of running away. It would not work of course. It never did. For as much as the Dursleys hated him, they also seemed to feel a grain of responsibility for him. They would not let him run away. They owed it to his parents.

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Hmm, kind of an awkward last bit, but I try to work with what I can think of. I'll have some good stuff next chapter- Also sorry for kind of cutting off info on the hallucinations. But take what ya get (;

I would love some reviews! Please, it really does encourage me to write. Also, there is a poll on my profile for who should be the lesser antagonists. If you aren't a member leave a comment! Also, note that I have a specific story arc for each character if you choose them as the enemy. There will be a poll up later for allies.

Hermione

Ron

Ginny

Percy

George

Fred

Crabbe

Goyle

Malfoy

Luna


	5. Friends

Harry opened his eyes and felt an odd sensation. He was warm and comfortable. So foreign was this feeling that he quickly sat up in alarm. The first thing he noticed was he was on an actual bed, wrapped in a down comforter and nice, thick linen sheets. He looked around, confused. The walls were painted blue, and it looked just like Dudley's old room, except emptier. The window was also blocked off by iron bars.

He blinked once. Twice, convinced he must be dreaming. As he lifted the sheets to examine the room it wavered and the world seemed to turn on its head.

The next thing Harry knew he was on the dirty wooden floor of his cupboard. He had fallen out of bed. Compared to the lovely warmth of his dream, as real as it had seemed, the cupboard was bone chillingly cold and painfully small- claustrophobic even. Besides that, the dim illumination of the lightbulb could not compare to the full moon shining bright out of the window. Or the streetlamps.

Harry shuddered with longing before climbing back onto the hard cold cupboard shelf he had made a bed. Shivering at the sudden chill he felt, he did his best to wrap himself in the sheets he had been given. He noticed now how truly moth bitten and worn that they were.

It seemed that he had only barely closed his eyes when he woke suddenly. Harry sighed before getting up quickly, not willing to risk Dudley tormenting him if he did not wake.

"Get the mail!" As Harry wandered into the kitchen he heard Vernon bark this at Dudley.

The Dursleys would have remained unaware that Harry had entered the kitchen if Dudley had not zeroed in on Harry, whining "No! Make Harry do it!"

Vernon quickly reestablished Dudley's order with a single word. "Boy!"

Harry quickly pivoted one-hundred and eighty degrees to drag his feet over to the door. If Vernon had been paying attention he would have realized Harry was making fun of the Smelting 'March,' which was truthfully a hyped up walk in which obese boys attempted to act like fit military men, and failed miserably, especially where Dudley was concerned.

Harry bent over to pick up the mail, rifling through it, out of habit, to see if there was anything concerning him. There never was, however, today seemed to be an anomaly.

Near the middle of the stack there was a letter lacking a return address or a stamp. On it was written:

_Mr. H. Potter_

_The Cupboard Under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

Harry blinked twice, thinking it was a dream, like the one he'd had the previous night. He almost gasped aloud, with excitement as he made to tear into the letter. He wondered who it could be from. Perhaps a godparent who would take him away from here. Maybe he would have a dog and a motorcycle, as well as a lot of galleons. A lot of money.

Harry shook his head. Why a godfather? Especially one with a dog, a motorcycle, and something called galleons!

"Boy!" Vernon's voice interrupted his thoughts and Harry hurriedly stuffed the letter into his shirt. He would have to look at it later.

"Here you go, Sir." Harry sighed as he handed the mail to Vernon, using the title of Sir that Vernon insisted he use. He supposed he was lucky he didn't have to refer to Dudley as that, or any of Dudley's gang.

It was awful enough that he had to endure the isolation imposed by Dudley and his gang. At school he was the boy who Dudley hated. The boy with the round spectacles that wore Dudley's hand-me downs and lived in Dudley's cupboard.

He was an interloper.

But perhaps the letter would change that. Perhaps he would have friends.

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So, this update isn't as long as I'd like but I had to cut it off because the next chappie goes into a different area. I would especially love reviews on this, and I'm gonna wait to see if the dudleys find the letter. Review and give some feedback. I kind of flung in the friend thing, but I really want feedback on that

xoxo

Aqua


	6. Letters 1 and 2

Harry had been so busy cleaning the house and avoiding Dudley that he had not had a chance to open the letter he had received. Only after the Dursleys had decided to leave the house did Harry have the opportunity to leave read the letter. He had been left in the care of his rather absentminded neighbor with the impossible name of Arabella Doreen Figg who had an abundance of cats. Harry was able to escape once she had fallen asleep midsentence.

He had slowly worked his way around the house until he found a secluded corner. Eagerly he pulled out the somewhat crumpled letter from his shirt. He gazed at it for a moment, allowing himself to dare to hope for a better future.

Harry took a deep breath and gently tore open the letter.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZADRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwum, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter_

_ We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_ Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry let out a cry that ended in a choked sob. It had all been a sick joke, probably by Dudley and his gang. He had gotten his hopes up for nothing. Everything ended in misery. His life, Hermione's- Hermione? He had no idea where he had conjured that name from, but no matter, everything was pointless.

He pulled his legs in close and ducked his head down to sob, as he crumpled the letter. The time passes quickly when you are absorbed in yourself, and Harry did not realize how dark it had grown until he heard the voice of his sitter in his ear.

"It's not a lie, Harry."

Harry gave a start and looked up at the wrinkled face of Ms. Figg. "Did you say something Ms. Figg?"

"Just that it's very cold out. Come in, and have a bit of tea. I'm sure a cat would be happy to warm you." Ms. Figg's voice was once more its old doddery tone.

As Ms. Figg led Harry inside, he did not notice that the crumpled letter was melting into the ground. He would not be able to find it even if he wanted to.

Inside Ms. Figgs house, he had a rather sickening cup of tea before she led him over to the sink. "Harry, do be a dear and draw some water to wash our dishes."

Harry obediently did so, pausing only when he noticed a letter slowly floating to the top of the sink. Hardly an elegant entrance, but it did not matter to Harry. He noticed it was addressed differently compared to the Hogwarts letter.

_Harry J Potter_

_Firstborn Son of James Potter and Lily Potter_

_Of the Deathly Hallows Lineage_

Underneath his name was a strange grouping of symbols. A triangle superimposed on a circle and a straight line. It appeared to be some sort of crest. In the corner, where the return address was normally written, it simply said "Durmstrang."

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Another short chapter, However I plan on putting a few more updates for respective schools on here. What do you think?

Aqua


	7. Durmstrang

So my beta has been busy, and I didn't really want to get another. This is the unedited version of this chapter. Normally I like to write something in three drafts, but I haven't really gotten a chance to do so. I encourage you to criticize and I may eventually upload an update of this chapter with errors corrected. I'm sorry it took so long.

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**Open**

Harry looked at the letter, fascinated as he tentatively rubbed his hand over it. Despite having come out of the sink, it was completely dry. Logically, it should have been impossible. The envelope did not appear to have any sort of water proofing. The real conundrum was the fact that there was not even a bead of moisture on the envelope.

There was no way it could have been real. Except, obviously, it was. He was holding a very dry letter in his hands. He opened it tentatively, skeptical of its origins, despite its miraculous appearance.

_Durmstrang Institute_

_Mr. Harry Potter,_

_You have been accepted into the Durmstrang Institute for aspiring Wizards and Witches. _

_The Durmstrang Institute invites you to attend a Durmstrang open house. Simply grasp the letter and state your full name thrice. Should you try and trace this letter, you will be prosecuted by Durmstrang Institute._

_Questions will be answered at the open house. We expect attendance at an Open House to confirm your attendance, by July 31st._

_From the Durmstrang Institute_

Harry held the letter in his hand as he turned to gradually slump backwards onto the sink. Washing forgotten, he began to question whether he was right to have so quickly dismissed the first letter as a prank of Dudley's. It had seemed like a badly framed joke, but this one made claims concerning Witches and Wizards too. He thought of the Dursleys and how quickly they would dismiss such outlandish ideas.

Still, the letter had gained some credibility in Harry's mind, even if some of it was his own painful desire for escape. He looked at the letter. All his questions would be answered if he said his name like it said.

Or he would be disappointed once more.

"Harry Potter. Harry Potter. Harry Potter." He shut his eyes tightly, expecting some sort of sensation, perhaps a feeling of movement. There was nothing. He opened his eyes and saw the homely kitchen of Ms. Figg

He read the letter again.

…_Grasp the letter and state your full name thrice…_

It needed his full name. Harry felt the weight on his shoulders, as if it was almost crushing him. He knew he had a middle name. It had just never mattered, while he was living at the Dursleys. They had never bothered to tell him and he had never bothered to ask. He only had known of his middle name after he stole a glance at his passport when the Dursleys were preparing for a trip. Harry was, of course, not to be taken with them.

He sank to the floor, giving way to the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart. For the first time in his life, Harry Potter wanted to cry.

Living with the Dursleys, he had taught himself to try and maintain devoid of emotion in public. Emotional displays only encouraged Dudley's harassment. Years of experience had not hardened him to the point that he was unbreakable and he clenched his fists trying to turn misery to hate.

"Harry James Potter." Harry stood quickly, trying to regain composure. "Harry James Potter." He started to glance around and then it clicked. James was his middle name.

"Harry James Potter." He heard his full name for the third time, just as he started to feel a strange sensation. The world began to spin and as it spun, Harry saw the expressionless face of Ms. Figg.

Slowly the world became streaks of light and then it stopped suddenly, dumping Harry onto a stone courtyard.

Harry stood, as the world rushed away with his blood. He would have stumbled and fallen if not for the hand that grasped his shoulder suddenly.

"You are Harry Potter?" Harry saw that this person was wearing rather odd looking shoes. They had a ball with wings engraved into the leather. He couldn't see much of the shoes though, because they were covered by a multicolored bathrobe. As his gaze moved up the boy he noticed that the bathrobe was accented with heavy furs.

Harry shivered, noticing for the first time, how cold it was. He was dressed in the usual threadbare clothing that was several sizes to large, being a hand me down from Dudley.

"You are cold, yes? It is of no wonder. You are wearing little, and what you are wearing is disgusting." Harry noticed that the boy's voice possessed a slight cadence as he spoke. He pronounced some of his words coarsely, stumbling over the language with a slight accent that Harry could not place.

"What's it to you?" Harry replied, slightly indignant at the slur on his clothes, despite its truth. He barely kept the chatter of his teeth out of his words and he struggled to still his shivering.

"So I'm assuming that you are Harry Potter?" The boy laughed cheerfully before handing Harry one of the many furs he wore. "Take it. Karkaroff would have my head if I let you freeze."

Harry didn't answer him at first as he wrapped the fur around himself, trying to still his teeth. "I am Harry Potter. Why do you know my name?"

"I know your name because I'm the fourth year you'll be shadowing. Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Viktor Krum and I am pleased to make your acquaintance." He held out his hand to Harry who shook it. "Harry, you have a solid grip. I bet you'd be a natural in Quidditch." He chuckled. "So, before I give you the tour, any questions?"

"What's Quidditch?"

Viktor's eyes widened as he stared at Harry. "Your family must live under a rock. It is an amazing sport. We will play a match."

He pulled Harry along quickly, not giving Harry time to explain that he actually lived in a cupboard.

"Here we are." Viktor said, happily pointing to a shed. "Technically not supposed to do this, but what the teachers don't know won't harm us." He threw a sleek looking broom at Harry." You can try my extra broom. It handles real well, even though it's not as fast as I like."

"It's a broom." Harry held the broom dumbly as Viktor swung his legs over his, which was floating in midair, unsupported.

"Haven't you ever ridden a broom before? Or just too scared?" Viktor suddenly shot upwards before completing a few loops before he landed on the ground once more. "Race you to that tree over there." He shot off, leaning forward.

Harry swung his leg over the broom nervously. He imitated Viktor, leaning forward and the broom accelerated quickly. It caught up to Viktor, then passed him and kept going. Viktor slowed and could be heard laughing as he banked back to the starting point.

"You won, sort of." Viktor whistled. "I'll have to find it later. Good thing you fell off, otherwise I'd have to find you too!" He laughed.

Harry found himself liking Viktor. He was very friendly despite his bulky and somewhat intimidating appearance. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry! It is of no matter. Now come on, we must finish the tour."

Viktor led Harry throughout the school, occasionally giving him a little history or information on a teacher or room. One room in particular caught his attention. In the cafeteria, symbols like those on his letter were carved into the wall. Viktor noticed his glance and simply spoke the name 'Grindewald' As though it were self explanatory.

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I considered splitting this into two chapters, but I really didn't want to delay any longer. I feel as though there is a significant amount of room for improvement, and the character of Viktor I'm portraying may seem OOC character, however, give me some leniency and remember that three years is a long time.

Also, review. Reviews feed the update machine.

That is Aqua.

And aqua is starving :P

I would love some criticism!


	8. Clarification

Sorry this isn't an update

I just thought I'd clarify, until my actual update, that Harry has not yet chosen a school. He was at Durstrang for an open house. Besides that, we do have another letter to go ;)


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